


so close to reaching that famous happy end

by ohallows



Series: AU snippets [2]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: AGAIN AO3 MAKE NB RELATIONSHIP OPTIONS PLEASE, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Ballroom Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Mutual Pining, Other, based on enchanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: “Well, Mr Smith,” Cel says, grabbing his hand in theirs and interlocking their fingers. “May I have this dance?”Zolf laughs and shakes his head, shoving at Cel’s arm. “Obviously,” he teases. “That’s why I’m here.”Cel smiles, tugging him out onto the dance floor. “Here, you - try this,” they say, setting Zolf’s hand on their waist while their own hand settles on his shoulder. His heart pounds in his chest as he glances up at them; they sigh, fond, and take his other hand, pulling him closer. “I won’t bite, Zolf. This is far too public of a venue, anyway.”
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom/Zolf Smith, Commander James Barnes/Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom, Commander James Barnes/Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom/Zolf Smith, Commander James Barnes/Zolf Smith
Series: AU snippets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098191
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	so close to reaching that famous happy end

**Author's Note:**

> ok so to set the scene: sasha escaped to the real world to get away from barret and eldarion, zolf followed her, and in the process of looking for her met cel and barnes. stayed with them for a bit while looking for sasha. he eventually finds sasha. the time comes when he has to leave w sasha and bring her back to idk the fictional country of england but he doesnt want to leave cel and barnes bc crush /j. genuinely you don’t need context this is literally just that one dancing scene from enchanted bc i have brain rot
> 
> is cel actually this graceful? absolutely not. but i needed someone to be and it sure wasn’t gonna be zolf. i should also explain barnes is like. idk 5’8 or smth in my head but i simply think cel should be taller than him. also human au so zolf is like. idk. 5’3? let’s give him another foot boys. also! i hc barnes as malaysian since kim’s barnes is the one i picture and he’s malaysian (also thank you kim for humoring me as i asked abt malaysian clothes)
> 
> ALSO: listen to ‘so close’by jon mclaughlin

“I look  _ ridiculous,”  _ Zolf grouses, pulling at his sleeves uncomfortably. He shifts in his seat as the taxi ambles on down the road. The naval dress uniform is a bit tight in the collar, and he undoes the top button just to get some more space to breathe. “Where’d you get the money for this, anyway?” he asks. It’s clearly not hand-me-down, and he has no ideas where Sasha could have found the suit this quickly.

“I, er, know someone. Why? Who’s asking?” Sasha asks, glancing around as though there’s someone listening in. Zolf just stares at her, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“M - me? I’m asking?” he says, and Sasha relaxes a bit. She still doesn’t answer the question though, a shifty look in her eyes, and Zolf just decides that he’s better off not knowing, probably. Can’t be an accomplice to a crime you didn’t know happened. He’s pretty sure that’s how it works, at least.

The taxi lets them off in front of the banquet hall, and Zolf follows Sasha out, handing some money over to the driver.

“Thanks, mate,” he says, clapping them on the shoulder. The taxi speeds away, driver tipping his hat at Zolf. 

Sasha is waiting for him at the entrance, shoulders hunched up a bit. “Tickets?” she calls, and Zolf nods, fumbling in the pockets of his suit until he pulls both of them out. Sasha takes them from him and hands them to the man next to the door. With a sweeping bow, the man opens the door, and Sasha presses her lips together. 

“Er… thanks,” Zolf says, uncomfortable. He pulls Sasha through, hand on her elbow, as she mouths something like ‘ _ bowing??’  _ to him. He elects not to respond. 

The hall inside is gorgeous, with sweeping ceilings. Lights hang from the ceiling, hung on fishing wire to make it look as through they’re floating in the air. Two chandeliers descend over the dance floor, elaborate things carved out of glass that twinkle in the light. It looks like a scene from - well, from a fairytale. Nothing in the castle he’s used to has anything even remotely like this, but he recognises the style from the movies that Cel and Barnes had made him watch. 

It’s crowded, which doesn’t help with things, and Zolf leads Sasha down the grand staircase, standing at the outside of the group. He tries to crane his neck, and then nudges for Sasha too, since she’s taller. Sasha goes up on her tiptoes as she looks through the crowd, trying to find Cel or Barnes. Zolf takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his speeding heart. She nudges him in the shoulder and he looks up.

Cel and Barnes freeze when the crowds part like the sea, gazes falling on Zolf as he stands there, gloved hands twisting together. They both look stunning. Cel is wearing a deep red suit with a small, golden floral pattern that stretches up the front, with an embroidered silver collar. Their dress shirt underneath is a light grey that brings out their eyes, and it’s hard for Zolf to tear his eyes away. Barnes is in a black baju melayu, and the gold stitching down the front matches Cel’s. Both of them looked shocked to see him, but the shock is quickly replaced by joy as they walk up to him, Cel dragging Barnes behind them.

“You said you’d save a dance for me?” Zolf asks, hating how uncertain his voice sounds. 

He needn’t have worried; Cel’s eyes light up with excitement, but before they can say anything, someone at the front of the room taps on the microphone. The crowd slowly falls silent, all turning to look at the small stage. An old, kindly gentleman steps up to the microphone, and smiles out over the crowd. 

“Good evening, everyone,” he says, a low baritone that carries even without the microphone. “I trust everyone is enjoying themselves. Our band has just returned from the intermission, and will be starting up again soon. I encourage you all to return to the dance floor for a waltz.” 

He steps down and the band slowly starts to shuffle back into place, getting ready as the lights dim a bit, turning to a slight purple overlay over the room. 

“May I?” Barnes asks, inclining his head a bit as he extends his arm to Sasha. She looks taken aback, and gives Zolf a confused glance. He shrugs and motions for her to take it, which she does, albeit awkwardly. 

“Er - you sure? I mean, I - I never really learned how, and -” Sasha stammers, but Barnes just shrugs. 

“S’okay. We don’t need to go in the thick of it. Plus, this will get Cel to stop stepping on my feet,” Barnes says, corner of his mouth twitching up in a slight smile. 

Cel shoves at his shoulder, causing him to stumble a bit. An offended look overtakes the smile they’d had after seeing Zolf, and they cross their arms. “I don’t  _ step on your feet _ ,” they snap, clearly not  _ actually  _ offended. 

“They do, all the time,” Barnes stage-whispers, cupping his mouth with his hand as he leans closer to Zolf. Cel flicks him in the cheek and then presses a kiss there. 

“I don’t even  _ want  _ to dance with you, anymore,” Cel says, grabbing Zolf’s arm and pulling him a bit closer to them. “Zolf’s my partner now.”

Barnes rolls his eyes fondly and turns back to Sasha. “You don’t have to,” he says, giving her an easy out, but Sasha shrugs. 

“It’s… fine,” she mutters. “But I might step on your feet too.”

“Not a problem,” Barnes says with a kind smile. “They’re used to it by now.”

With one more look at Zolf, Sasha lets Barnes lead her to a less crowded portion of the dance floor. Zolf watches her go amusedly; she keeps chancing glances back to him, looking a mix of distressed and confused, but he just gives her a little wave. Barnes clearly grabbed her to give Cel and him some privacy, and Zolf doesn’t really know how to thank him. 

“Well, Mr Smith,” Cel says, grabbing his hand in theirs and interlocking their fingers. “May I have this dance?”

Zolf laughs and shakes his head, shoving at Cel’s arm. “Obviously,” he teases. “That’s why I’m here.”

Cel smiles, tugging him out onto the dance floor. “Here, you - try this,” they say, setting Zolf’s hand on their waist while their own hand settles on his shoulder. His heart pounds in his chest as he glances up at them; they sigh, fond, and take his other hand, pulling him closer. “I won’t bite, Zolf. This is  _ far  _ too public of a venue, anyway.”

Zolf can’t help it - he laughs at that, and Cel smiles even wider when he does. 

“I would say I’ve got two left feet, but…” Zolf trails off, letting go of Cel’s hand as he knocks against his prosthetic. They laugh, high and clear, and he feels his heart flip in his chest as he tries not to be too obvious with how he’s looking at them. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun! Promise. Ready?” Cel asks, smiling fondly down at him, and Zolf’s words die in his throat. 

They look… beautiful, light shining around their head like a halo, golden confetti from the party sitting on their shoulders. They must have put glitter in their hair, because it shimmers, and for a moment Zolf wants to reach out and touch it. He resists, and instead takes a step closer, taking their hand again. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, and feels the blush starting to travel up the back of his neck as he looks at them. The music starts, a slow, gentle rhythm, and they move together, a step back, a step to the side, a step forward, and then over and over again. Cel’s hand is warm in his, and Zolf’s hand on their waist feels… right. 

He lets them lead; he knows how to waltz, had to learn for his guard ceremony years ago, but he’ll be damned if he remembers many of the moves. It turns into mostly muscle memory as Cel leads them around the ballroom, steps careful and sure. They cross paths with Barnes and Sasha on a few occasions. Sasha looks more comfortable than Zolf thought, and he wonders what Barnes told her to get her to relax a bit in the crowd. 

Cel catches Zolf watching Barnes and Sasha, and the smile that spreads across their face is knowing and regretful at the same time. “He’ll miss you too, you know, even if he doesn’t show it as much as I do.”

Zolf swallows. “I’ll miss him, too,” he says, a lump in his throat that he speaks around, hoping Cel won’t pick up on it. 

They sway back and forth for a while, Cel leading Zolf in circles around the dance floor, hand shifting until their fingers are entwined. It makes the positioning slightly awkward, but Zolf doesn’t really care. They drift closer as they dance, until their chests are nearly touching, and Zolf’s hand creeps closer to the back of Cel’s neck with each slow rotation. Cel’s cheek brushes against his temple, lips brushing against his ear as Zolf rests his chin on their shoulder. 

It only lasts a moment, as Cel pulls back with the stars in their eyes and a smile on their face. 

“Spin!” Cel whispers, and Zolf does, closing his eyes and trusting that they’ll catch him. 

He lets go of their waist but not their hand, and Cel pulls him back in, pressing his back to their chest as they dance him around. Their laugh is even better than the music, and it’s infectious; Zolf lets out a bit of a laugh as well, until Cel turns him back around and leans down to press their foreheads together for a moment. 

And then they’re back to dancing as the music builds and builds, and Zolf is laughing, and Cel is laughing, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever been this happy before. Cel spins him again and again, and then Zolf steps back in, finally finding his own rhythm as he spins the both of them in a circle, not even thinking about how awkward his prosthetic makes it. 

His hand comes to rest on Cel’s waist again as they take his other hand, and they waltz around the ballroom a bit more. They slow down and move in tight circles as the music starts to come to an end, and Zolf ends up close to them again, spinning slowly around each other. He’s unable to tear his gaze away from them, but he would swear that Cel’s eyes flick down to his mouth for a moment as the final crescendo plays. They stop spinning, Zolf’s hands tensing on Cel’s waist as they both refuse to let go. 

Cel leans in, just a bit, and for a moment, Zolf thinks that they might kiss him. For a moment, Zolf pushes away the world, pushes away all the reasons why they shouldn’t, why he doesn’t deserve this. For a moment, he lets himself live in a world where someone like Cel is interested in  _ him,  _ and it feels… good. He can feel Cel’s breath on his lips, and his heart  _ yearns  _ with it, even if the only thing that will come of this is a more difficult goodbye. Zolf leans in too, letting his eyes flutter shut when he thinks they’re close enough to -

Someone clears their throat behind him and Zolf freezes. He can feel Cel pull back, and when Zolf opens his eyes, the space between him and Cel feels like an ocean. They aren’t meeting his eyes, staring over his shoulder instead. 

He turns, and Barnes and Sasha are standing there. Sasha looks… less uncomfortable than Zolf would have expected, and Barnes, as always, has his cryptic mask on. His eyes soften when he looks at Cel, though, and Zolf drops their hand, stepping away. 

He doesn’t look at Cel. 

“We should go,” Sasha says, glancing between the three of them with a too-understanding gleam in her eyes that Zolf’s reasonably sure is only readable by him. “Lots of. Things. Er. To get done. Yeah.”

She’s right. This was - being here was Zolf’s request, delaying their return so that he could say a proper goodbye, and he knows that he was lucky to even get this. 

“Bye, Zolf,” Cel whispers, and they look like they want to pull him into a hug before seemingly thinking better of it and wrapping their arms around themselves instead. Zolf doesn’t know if this is better or worse, but all he knows is that he needs to get out of here, now, before he has a full on depression spiral in the middle of the dance floor.

“...Bye,” Zolf says, and there’s an air of finality to all of this that he hates being a part of. He waits just a moment longer, committing the two of them to memory as his eyes trace the lines of their face. The moment stretches, tenuous as a spider’s web, and he wishes that it could stretch on forever. 

He never does get what he wants, though.

“Zolf,” Sasha murmurs, tapping him on the shoulder again, and Zolf finally breaks eye contact, taking a step back as he stares at the floor. He covers up the moment of awkwardness with a short bow, and then turns around.

“Thank you,” he calls over his shoulder. He’s stiff, the _ words  _ are stiff, and they’re not what he really wants to say but  _ those _ words are going to stay locked up in his chest forever. “I - I couldn’t have done, er. Any of this. Without… you. Both of you. So, er. Thanks.”

As declarations go, it’s lacking, but he doesn’t stick around and wait to hear what they say in return. He leaves them both behind on the dance floor as he leads Sasha toward the grand staircase at the edge of the banquet hall.

“Sorry, boss,” she says quietly, and he keeps his eyes resolutely forward as he sets his jaw.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he mutters, ignoring the way that his heart is slowly cracking into pieces. 

She pauses almost imperceptibly at his side, and he can feel the nervous energy coming off her that means she has something to say, but the moment passes without her speaking. They continue up the staircase in silence; he shoves his hands in his pockets and squares his shoulders and doesn’t turn around.

When they get to the top, Zolf fumbles with his pocket and pulls out the two tickets from the coat check. Before he can start moving, Sasha plucks them from his grasp; he’s too emotionally drained to fight with her over them, so he just settles for raising an eyebrow as he looks over at her (carefully,  _ carefully  _ not letting himself focus on the dancers he can see in the corner of his eye). 

“I’ll go… get our jackets,” Sasha says, and melts away into the crowd as Zolf stands there trying to compose himself.

He takes one deep breath, and then another. A few of the partygoers give him concerned looks; one even steps toward him and then, upon noticing  _ something _ , leaves instead, although they do keep casting him worried glances over their shoulder.

The music eventually slows and comes to a stop and Zolf closes his eyes and breathes before turning around, fingertips landing gently on the banister as if for support. He scans the dance floor, and it’s easy enough to spot Cel’s shock of blonde hair standing straight up among the more tame hairdos of the rest of the attendees. 

Neither Cel nor Barnes have turned around, pressing their foreheads together and whispering something. Barnes leans up and kisses them softly, settling into their grip.

They look so… perfect. Ideal for each other, in the way that Cel’s arms wrap around Barnes’ back, the way Barnes’ hand cups the back of their neck and pulls them down a bit so that he doesn’t have to be stretching on his tiptoes.

A bitter smile pulls at Zolf’s lips as he watches them, hand falling off the banister and back to his side. In a few weeks - a few  _ days,  _ even - he won’t be anything more than a memory to them. He’d been foolish to think - 

Zolf banishes that thought; it won’t do him any good to dwell on the what-ifs, not when he’ll be leaving soon, anyway. He had his chance, and… well. He doesn’t belong here. This isn’t his home. (It doesn’t matter how much he wanted it to be.)

The music starts up, a bit faster than before, and he tears his gaze away, taking a shaky breath as he runs a tired hand through his hair. The gel is sticky and stiff, and he frowns when he pulls his hand back down. All the prep he’d done for tonight feels so… useless, now. 

He doesn’t really know what he expected. This was never meant to be permanent; this was supposed to be a final goodbye, a way for Zolf to make a clean break from this world and the two people he’s grown to care about more than… well, anyone who’s still alive. Apart from Sasha.

Zolf jabs at the button on the lift and waits, jaw clenched tightly as he tries to resist the urge to turn around again. 

The doors open, and he glances up, blood draining from his face as he takes an unconscious step back. Eldarion smirks at him from inside the lift, holding a finger to her lips. He opens his mouth to shout, but before he can say anything her eyes flash and his limbs lock in place, mouth held shut by an invisible magic. She steps forward, and a knife as thin and sharp as a needle stabs into his hip, slicing the skin as though it were butter. It’s so sharp that it barely even hurts; Zolf still gasps from the shock, but a single look from Eldarion makes him quiet. 

“Where’s Sasha?” she asks in a carefully controlled whisper, standing close to him so that no one will be able to see the knife currently stuck in his side.

Zolf just glares at her, unable to speak as the spell continues to wind around him, and Eldarion shakes her head and sighs. The pressure on his jaw lessens somewhat, and he opens his mouth one or two times to test the resistance.

“Where. Is. Sasha,” she says, a demand instead of a question, now, and twists the knife just that little bit more in his gut.

“Fuck you,” he spits, keeping his voice low enough that no one standing around will be able to hear him. His hand twists behind his back, fingers curling into his and Sasha’s signal that means  _ emergency, run _ . He can only hope that Sasha will spot that before freezing once she sees Eldarion. Maybe she can get away, at least.

“A pity,” she murmurs, and her voice is gentle but Zolf relishes in the anger and frustration that he can see in her eyes. 

She steps back, pulling the knife with her. Blood spurts from the newly opened wound as the metal tears once more at his skin, and Zolf chokes - this time it hurts, stings like a red-hot iron is brushing through the wound. It pulls completely out, leaving a nasty, serrated wound behind, and Zolf clutches at it, blood pooling under his fingers. 

Fire races through his veins and he gasps, quieter this time, as he recognises the feel and shape of magic spreading through him. It’s an evil magic, something forbidden and as old as the world itself, and Zolf can feel it starting to consume him. He tries to fight it, to keep the curse at bay the best he can but the blood loss is making his head spin terribly. 

“Wh - what did you -“ he breathes, vision swimming in front of him as he tries to keep his balance. “How -“

Eldarion tsks, taking a dainty red handkerchief out of a hidden pocket in her dress. She rubs it up and down the knife, carefully cleaning it of the dark stain of Zolf’s blood before tucking it back into her pocket. The knife disappears, either via magic or the same trick that Sasha knows to slip your knife up your sleeve without anyone noticing. 

“Curses are so hard to come by naturally, these days,” she says, like she’s commenting on the weather or a particularly late parcel delivery. “I find it’s much easier to simply… make your own, in some circumstances.”

Zolf feels himself fall, vision swimming as his knees hit the ground. The music builds around him, sounding too loud and too close, and he covers his ears with his palms. The motion makes his head spin and the vertigo makes him feel nauseous. He looks up at Eldarion, who looks down at him with a sneer on her face. 

“You could have just told me where she was,” she says, and Zolf coughs, staring up at her defiantly. He never would have, regardless of what she did to him. She seems to read that in his face, and shakes her head as she turns away. 

Zolf gasps as pain spikes in his chest, and his vision goes black as he slumps to the floor in front of the lift. The last thing he hears before passing out is someone beginning to scream. After that, he feels like he’s floating along through clouds, unable to feel his body as he’s borne along a current. Darkness surrounds him, leeching away his energy, and he slowly feels more and more like he’s succumbing. He tries to fight it, but it slowly drains him until all he can do is let the current drag him away, further into himself. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears something. It’s quiet and muffled, and he can barely make it out unless he focuses on it. He tries to focus on it more, and it steadily gets clearer and clearer, until he can make it out. 

Someone is calling to him. No, not one person… there are three voices there, one he would know anywhere, even after years, and two that make his nonexistent heart speed up in his nonexistent chest. It gets easier to make out the more he focuses. The voices sound so sad, so  _ panicked _ , and then he feels… he  _ feels _ , even though he doesn’t have a body, someone grab his hand and grab it. It tethers him to awareness, and the sounds come through broken up and garbled but understandable.

“Zolf!” It’s Cel, he  _ knows _ it’s Cel, and they sound so  _ broken _ that he feels it echo through his chest. “Zolf,  _ please _ \- wake up, we can’t - wake - Sasha, can - please -” 

It fades in and out, and Zolf tries so hard to hold on, to listen, and it gets stronger the harder he fights. There’s something warm spreading through his chest. A line, thin and easily broken, but it wraps around Zolf, wraps around  _ whatever _ he is in this space, and drags him back to the surface. It pushes against the current, and Zolf fights, trying to keep hold of the line, climbing out of the darkness as he clings to the warmth and light that’s slowly beginning to beat back the darkness surrounding him. 

Zolf gasps awake to the sensation of Cel’s lips on his. Cel pulls away the second that he comes to, staring down at him with a worried look on their face, but then immediately comes back. They pull him into a tight hug, arms trembling as they wrap around their shoulders.

“Thank the  _ gods _ you woke up. We were so scared, you - you weren’t responsive, and Sasha said something about a curse, and I didn’t actually know those were real, so I just  _ tried _ this on a whim, and -” Cel keeps babbling until Barnes clutches their shoulders with a hand, squeezing tightly. They fall silent, letting Zolf come back to himself slowly, blinking around as he recognises the people standing around them. 

Barnes is holding his hand, squeezing as he watches Zolf’s face intently. His other hand is pressed to Zolf’s side, keeping pressure on the wound with an impassive look on his face. As always, his lips are pressed together tightly, but Zolf can make out the fear and worry behind his eyes. 

Zolf looks back up at Cel, tears streaming down their face, and uses his free hand to brush away some of their tears. They catch his hand and press it to their cheek, and then Zolf lets it drag back to run his fingers through their hair, smiling up at them. He knows what the curse was, what it did. He could feel it as it spread through his system, and he knows that Cel and Barnes are the reason he got pulled back.

“You saved me,” he breathes. The ‘ _ because you love me _ ’ is left unspoken, but Zolf doesn’t need to say it. He knows it’s true, and they both do too, and that’s enough for now. Cel pulls him into another hug, and Barnes joins this time, both pressing against his sides as they hold onto him tightly. 

“We always will,” Cel says through their tears, and Zolf buries his head in their shoulder as the three of them just sit there, holding onto each other. The poison is steadily bleeding out of his system, and Zolf starts feeling better quicker than he thought he would. He sees Sasha standing there out of the corner of his eyes, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and the memories come rushing back. With a slight wince, he extricates himself from their grip and tries to sit up so that he can face her and warn her about Eldarion, but he’s halfway through the sentence when Barnes starts pushing at him.

“Alright, no, let’s stay down, yeah?” Barnes says, easing Zolf back down onto his back. “Don’t need you pulling anything until the paramedics get here.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Zolf says, and claps Barnes on the shoulder, thumb rubbing at the juncture of his neck and collarbone. “It’s already healing up.”

He rucks his shirt up slightly, and it’s true: the wound already looks days old, tissue knitting itself back together as the blood clots and forms a nasty-looking scab, but one that won’t rip open anytime soon. Barnes doesn’t look like he believes him, but he at least lets Zolf sit up and helps him turn to face Sasha. 

“Eldarion is here,” Zolf says urgently, and the blood drains from Sasha’s face as she takes a small step back.

“No -” she whispers, “no, she can’t be, she - I - how did she -”

“Thank you for the introduction, Mr Smith.” The voice comes from behind them all, booming across the ballroom, and all of them turn around silently. 

Eldarion steps in from the crowd, and there’s a scowl across her face. “Sasha, come with me,” she says, cajoling, but Sasha takes another step back. 

“I’ll  _ never _ go with you,” she spits, and Eldarion sighs. 

“I was worried that would be the case,” she says, sounding disappointed. “We’ll have to do this the hard way, I suppose.”

Zolf feels his stomach drop through the floor, and Cel turns a worried look to him. 

“Zolf, what does she - “

They don’t have time to finish the sentence, because there’s a loud  _ boom _ and then Eldarion starts to move. She sweeps her cloak around herself and it completely envelops her, taking on a strange, shimmering quality. Light pours from the cape, slowly turning into a dark shadow-y smoke that spreads throughout the room, covering the windows and the lights. She twists, undulating in a strange manner, and then seems to stretch, reaching up and up toward the ceiling as she grows. Large, leathery wings sprout from the creature, casting shadows over the hall. They knock into the chandeliers, which fall to the ground and shatter across the dance floor. Eldarion continues to grow, scales glittering in the light, and claws clack against the floor as she starts to move. 

“Shite,” Zolf breathes, staring up at the massive  _ dragon _ taking up the space in the dining hall. To the partygoers’ credit, most of them completely cleared out the second the transformation started happening. There are a few of them left in the hall, but Eldarion’s attention is on him, Barnes, Cel, and mostly -  _ mostly -  _ Sasha. Zolf steps in front of her, glaring up at Eldarion, and Cel and Barnes flank him. 

“It really didn’t have to come to this,” Eldarion says, as though it’s  _ their  _ fault instead of hers, and reaches forward with a massive claw. Zolf moves back, and pulls Cel and Barnes back with him as they bump into Sasha. It’s not quick enough; Eldarion manages to grab hold of Barnes, the closest to her, and Zolf holds his hand tightly, letting go of Cel as he grabs Barnes’ other hand as well. Eldarion laughs, a terrifying noise, and rips Barnes away. His fingers slip through Zolf’s as he tries to hold on. 

“Barnes!” Cel shouts, but he’s too far away for them to grab. 

Zolf drags them back as Eldarion makes a grab for them as well. After missing, she roars and breaks through the outside wall of the tower, Barnes clutched tightly in her grasp., and then Eldarion disappears, climbing up the wall outside the tower. 

“Come and get him!” The voice booms around the dining hall; the partygoers still in the room clap their hands against their ears at the volume, but Zolf, Cel, and Sasha all stare at the gap in the wall where she disappeared through. 

“Barnes,” Cel whispers, shocked, and Zolf turns to them and grabs both of their hands in his. 

“We’re going to get him back. Okay?” he says. When Cel doesn’t look at him, he reaches up and tilts their chin until they’re no longer looking terrified at the hole in the wall. “I promise. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

“How?” Cel asks. Zolf gives them a steadying pat on the shoulder and turns to Sasha. 

“Just like old times, yeah?” he calls, and Sasha shakes her head, half in disbelief and half in exhaustion. 

“Sure. Yeah. Cel, you know how to fight?” she asks, coming a bit closer to them. 

Cel looks between the two of them. “We’re… we’re going out there? After them? This is - Zolf, I don’t mean to critique your ambition, but this is... at least thirty floors up, I mean - it’s just -”

“Trust me,” Zolf says. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Either of you.”

Cel doesn’t seem completely comforted. “Look - Zolf, I’m not doubting that, and I  _ do _ want to fight a dragon, but  _ gravity _ isn’t something that we can necessarily  _ fight _ , and it’s  _ raining _ , and we’re, as I said,  _ thirty stories up.” _

“There’s a ledge, and a staircase that leads up to the roof. I saw it when we were coming in,” Zolf explains. “It’s - well, not perfectly safe, but you’ll be able to hold on. Okay?”

For a moment, Cel doesn’t say anything, looking back at where Barnes disappeared. A second passes while Zolf and Sasha wait - Sasha more impatiently than Zolf as she rocks back and forth on her feet - and then Cel takes a deep breath, the tiniest smile spreading across their face. “I always did say Barnes would be the damsel in distress, out of the two of us.”

Zolf smiles at them too, and pulls them in for a tight squeeze before letting them go and turning back to Sasha. “Right. We’re going after them. Sasha, do you…” he trails off as Sasha already starts digging through her pockets, anticipating what he was going to say before he does.

“Should have known this would happen somehow,” Sasha mutters, sighing a bit, and Zolf takes half a second to give her a sympathetic grimace. Eldarion showing up was enough of a shock to him; he can’t even imagine what Sasha must be going through.

Cel gives him a tight grin, anxiety mixed with a fierce-minded determination, and takes the dagger that Sasha offers them. 

“Ready to fight a dragon?” Zolf asks, pulling a sword out of the scabbard of one of the knights on display. He examines it for a moment; it’s a bit shoddy, but it doesn’t seem to be rusting, and the edge hasn’t been too blunted. It will at least do the job, considering he doesn’t have anything  _ else  _ to use.

“With you?” Cel says, and leans in and presses a quick kiss to Zolf’s cheek while Sasha pretends to retch next to them. Zolf shoves her away, but he can’t keep Cel’s fond, determined, contagious smile out of his mind as he faces the window. “Always.” 

**Author's Note:**

> end note: i simply think that the yearning is so palpable like amy adams just!! leaning in for a kiss and then idina menzel steps in and patrick dempsey doesn’t even LOOK as giselle leaves w james marsden and then the music slows and giselle turns around and they’re kissing and just UGH the YEARNING ms adams PLEASE
> 
> (yea eldarion isnt this evil i don’t think but she does fit in the role!)
> 
> everyone say thank you noot they put up with me sending an entire au to them y’all are just getting the highlights 
> 
> also i couldn’t get to it but the reason barnes cut in a bit is bc he and cel promised not to make zolf’s decision to leave any harder or make it about themselves


End file.
